


The Storm Cloud

by secreterces5



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I literally wrote a poem for this, LSP being a great girlfriend, Late Night Conversations, Long-Distance Relationship, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Talking On The Phone, This focuses on the third Lemongrab of course, and I’m in the process of composing a melody, memories of past lives and past selves, song-writing, thanks to my friend charliecharlo on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:57:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secreterces5/pseuds/secreterces5
Summary: Late at night, Lemongrab decides to write a new song for his band, The Unacceptables. LSP is at home in the Lumpy Space, but she knows he’s up late and decides to call.Turns out she was right to do so.





	The Storm Cloud

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a prompt “Why are you awake right now?” that this awesome person @charliecharlo (go check him out he has awesome headcanons and theories and observations about AT And lumpygrab) requested, but I think it got slightly out of hand. I mean, I wrote a song for this, Glob bless it. I’m really proud of it and so wanna share it here as well.

The city full of lemonpeople was very quiet during most nights. Most citizens of the earldom had similar sleep patterns and went to sleep at the same time, after all, but there were exceptions. A small boy in a house on the outskirts was finishing up his new sculpture. Elsewhere, a mother of two was checking on her children (who she’d planted, grown and raised herself, mind you) for the last time before going to bed.

Just like the city, the castle towering over it was, too, very quiet. The earl of Lemongrab himself, though, was wide awake, and the longer he stayed awake, the more suffocating the silence around him seemed to be. He’d grown accustomed to being around people in these last few months, he spent some time with Fern after they both got candified, he appointed several meetings with princess Bubblegum in an attempt (made on both sides) to fix both their personal relationships and ties between the kingdom and the earldom, and he was planning a small reunion tour with a music band his first predecessor used to be in, The Unacceptables. So far he’d only texted with them but tomorrow they had a band meeting planned and he wandered how it would go.

Would they even come? Weren’t like two of them dead? What are they going to say about  _ him _ being dead for a while?

As the night progressed, he decided to at least be productive if his anxieties wouldn’t let him sleep. He could try and write a new song, at least he’d have an offering for the band meeting. So, not really knowing if there was even anything to write, he took a small notebook and a pencil he kept in his nightstand’s drawer and ventured out into his castle. Wherever he went, gentle light of lanterns appeared seemingly out of nowhere, lit up by the servants living in the walls. On other nights, he had a tendency to notice a small delay as those in charge of night lights were only starting their shift and he would probably tell them to be more responsible when on duty, but tonight he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He had more important stuff to overthink.

Finally, he settled with sitting down to the empty dining table in one of the biggest rooms in the castle. He remembered Lemongrab the Second’s proposal of getting rid of it and turning the hall into a ballroom once. He also remembered Lemongrab the First’s hesitant agreement, as the “original” earl of Lemongrab didn’t particularly like the crowds at the time. Later, the idea almost turned into a fully planned project when the older brother started a band and grew to love the attention their fans showered them with.

So ironic that he’d been destroyed by music only months later, along with his clone.

Lemongrab shuddered, at times he could swear to have heard Lemonhope’s harp again, echoing through his home, through his mind, soft melody piercing him and tearing him apart bit by bit. It took a while after he was stitched together to muster up the courage to start listening to any sort of music again, and whenever there was a harp in the room he needed desperately to be anywhere else. Thank Glob most people who knew him understood that.

He tapped the flat end of his pencil against a blank page of the notebook. What did he feel like writing about?

His mind went blank.

Now that he had decided to write something, he didn’t know how to start.

Any given word he could think of felt wrong.

He couldn’t even start the first verse.

“Well this is annoying,” he spoke out loud, partly to fight against the silence wreathing around him, but that only seemed to draw it closer to his skin, embracing and crushing him, why did it feel like that, why did the silence feel so… tangible? Why wasn’t he asleep, he should be asleep, was it bad that he wasn’t asleep? Was he doing something wrong? Was something wrong with him – again??

Lemongrab gripped the pencil tighter and shut his eyes tight. His annoyance slowly but surely morphed into something else, something darker, anger, most likely. Yes, that was it, anger was the right word. He had survived the end of the world and he survived the elemental powers of Ooo getting out of hand and he had survived his own death, why did it feel like he shouldn’t have, why did he feel like he was doing everything wrong, what was the meaning of this?!

A tap on his shoulder wrenched him out of the panicky state he was slowly succumbing to. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was pressing his forehead against the blank paper and the pencil he held was moments away from snapping in half.

Next to him was standing one of the servants who lived in the walls. He was holding Lemongrab’s phone, which was at the moment buzzing. The name on the screen made him sigh in relief: it was Lumpy Space Princess. Just the person he needed to talk to. She’d recently movies back to the Lumpy Space for her official coronation and to deal with paperwork and administration related to the process, and even though they called each other all the time, it couldn’t quite compensate for her absence.

Trying to compose himself as to not sound like he just almost had a mental breakdown, he took the phone and picked up. “Hi–”

“Why are you awake right now?” his girlfriend’s voice came through, sounding a little scolding and more than a little worried.

The question caught him off-guard. He squinted his eyes in confusion: “How… how do you even know I’m awake?”

He heard her make the quiet “psh” scoff she made whenever she was about to state the obvious. “Well, you don’t sound like you’d just woken up. You sound like you’ve been up and about for a while before you picked up the phone.” She paused for a second and then added: “Also Bubblegum texted me saying she saw light in your castle with one of her new drones.”

Lemongrab sighed.  _ Of course she did. _ “That’s mother princess for you, I guess,” he mumbled while standing up from the desk and walking over to a window, trying to spot the drone. He saw nothing, however. Either it was far away or gone already, but it didn’t help his mood any.

“Yeah.. but she cares, LG,” LSP offered, trying to soothe his annoyance. “I think she’s just been on edge since experiencing the actual end of the world and her own family declaring war on her.”

“I’ve been on edge too!” Lemongrab exclaimed, throwing his hands up even though she couldn’t see the gesture. “And you don’t see  _ me _ stalking the candy people! …not anymore at least.” He groaned, the lack of sleep was getting to him and princess Bubblegum spying on him, even if from afar, was only worsening his already fragile state.

And even if she was in a completely different realm at the moment, he knew LSP could tell he wasn’t feeling well. “Lemongrab, why don’t you tell me what’s keeping you up?”

“You should be sleeping too, though.”

“Eh, I’d spent the next three hours watching cat videos, talking to you is always cooler. Now, what’s on your mind? Spill it.”

So, he decided to spill it. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d write a song for the band meeting tomorrow, but instead I had a meltdown, I think.”

“What?!”

“I’m fine now though!” he rushed to assure her, but it didn’t seem convincing even to him. Is he really fine? He didn’t feel fine. But he didn’t want her to worry, either.

“I know you don’t want me to worry,” she spoke up, and for half a second he wondered (not for the first time) if lumpy space people could read minds. “But you know it helps to talk about stuff.”

He let go of the pencil, giving up on song-writing. Obviously, his muse decided to evade him for the evening. Instead he wrapped his free arm around himself in an attempt to chase away the impending feeling of loneliness. How could he feel so alone when all around him there were the lemon citizens and how could he feel like he was missing more than a few pieces when he was out together with more pieces than he dared to count? How could he feel so…

“Wrong,” he admitted to her. “I feel wrong.”

She kept silent. She knew there was more to it.

He continued, if only to protect himself against the silence. Also because he really wanted her to know. He wanted her to understand, and he knew she would. She always did. “I was… I was okay earlier today, I was okay yesterday, I was okay a week ago, but tonight I feel horrible, I feel stupid and I hate everything.”  _ Mostly myself, _ he didn’t say out loud. “And I feel wrong for being annoyed and tired and angry when I don’t have anything in particular to be so annoyed and tired and angry for, you know?”

“Oh, baby,” she said softly. She desperately wanted to be there, to hug him and kiss him and hold him until he fell asleep. But she couldn’t. So she settled for the next best thing. “Most people have these intrusive thoughts from time to time, that we’re somehow broken. Let’s face it, most of us are. But that’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Scars and imperfections show that you’ve lived. Having a writer’s block is normal, and being in a horrible mood from time to time is normal too. You know, I really miss you, and sometimes I catch myself lashing out at mom and dad because of it. But I think they know I’m just irritated, because they’re always chill about it.”

Lemongrab couldn’t help but smile a little. He did have an opportunity to meet her parents already and they were the sweetest people he’d met in a while. And as much as she tried to act cool and tough, LSP had proven to him on numerous occasions that she could be just as sweet. Like now. Now, she was making him feel better. “I love you,” he informed her, because even if it was out of nowhere, it just… seemed appropriate.

“I love you too,” she responded and he could almost see her gentle smile. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? You’re strong, I’ve seen it, I know it. But even the strongest people have to take breaks. What I’m trying to say is, if you can’t write anything, don’t force yourself into it. Go hang out with the camel or the pegasus if you still don’t feel sleepy,” she offered.

He was about to follow her advice, honestly, why not? He told her once how the second earl came up with that idea a while ago and Lemongrab still spent time in his stable sometimes when he was feeling down. He suspected he wasn’t the only lemoncreature to do so, too.

But his eyes wandered down to the table, and the notebook, and the pencil, and he blinked. And just like that, the exact words he was searching for popped into his head. “Wait, stop,” he spoke up to interrupt LSP as she was still trying to think of more stuff to calm him down. “What rhymes with ‘us’?”

She hummed, pondering the sudden question before answering: “Maybe ‘thus’?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, setting the phone down and catching the pencil like a hawk snatching up its prey. “Yeah, that’ll work!”

“What, what will work?” Her voice was laced with excitement as she realized: “Did you get an idea for a song??? Oh my Glob am I your new muse? I’m a totally awesome muse.”

“Hold on for a second.”

“Sorry, I’ll stop talking. Write your heart out.”

And as he wrote the lyrics down verse after verse, he believed he might have done just that. When finished, he read the lyrics back to LSP and the sheer excitement in her voice as she gushed about how wonderful his work was melted away his remaining discomforts.

“It’s not exactly our band’s genre…”

“It’s not set in stone, you can come back to it later. Or make it the special song for the end of the night, you know, a goodbye song after a good concert. Whatever you do with it, it’s gonna be awesome,” she assured him. “Am I right or am I right?”

He grinned. “Both.” Just then, he let out a yawn.

“Aha! I heard that! You’re going to bed right now, mister!” she said half-jokingly.

He chuckled softly and complied. For whatever reason, he suddenly felt like he could doze off right then and there, but he’d done that a few times before and when Bubblegum found out, she scolded him for hurting his back that way.

Before settling back into his bed, Lemongrab wished LSP a good night and thanked her for being there for him. She replied with a smug “always, my dearest lemonboy,” and hung up shortly after.

And before he fell asleep, a melody of the song he’d just come up played softly in his mind, for once bringing not bad memories, but a sense of ease and warm, gentle embraces.

_Little drops of blue_

_Keep falling down and touching you_

_It’s the sky weeping_

_Over the tragedy you’ve been through_

_Little broken heart_

_Keeps getting ripped and torn apart_

_No ugly strings of yours_

_Can fix what never had to start_

_Little broken us_

_The rain will keep on weeping thus:_

_“Go touch the strings now”_

_And ugly turns vibrant, just because._

_Little drops of blue_

_Keep falling down as I kiss you_

_It’s the sky weeping_

_Over the truth that I love you._


End file.
